I don’t really get it, how my friends don’t really get it, how I most definitely do not want to get in on their fantasy football draft.
Despite all my not-so-subtly-advertised indifference on the subject, year in and year out, I somehow still get invited to join this league or that, terrible football puns and all, year in and year out, with requests for, like, kind of outrageous league fees, large portions of free time and the ability to pay non-divided attention to what pretty much boils down to a glorified Microsoft Excel spreadsheet.
I mean, if I wanted to sit around in a room full of dudes staring at computer screens with nothing better to do for the better part of eight hours, I’d, like, buy a pair of pre-pressed chinos and get a real job or something.
Far be it from me to upset the apple cart, so to speak, considering that last year alone an estimated 75 million people played fantasy football, but if the world continues to insist on spending the majority of their time doing things that aren’t actually happening, there are a few fake things I’d rather not actually do instead.
(Disclaimer: This is going to be another one of those for-the-most-part-ironic list things that I always do when I can’t figure out how to properly structure a full narrative, complete with played-out “Mighty Ducks” references, no discernible facts or revelations of any kind, general applecart upsetting, dread-inducing run-on sentences [Here’s where our editor takes up the run-on-sentence-smashing hammer with a deep sigh.], etc., etc., and it goes like this:)
(5) Fantasy tax evasion
Anyone who’s ever bought a pair of pre-pressed chinos and cashed a check knows that Uncle Sam (who is, by the way, my least favorite uncle), knows that Mr. Finger-Pointing Pinstripes “wants you” to pay him, like, a pretty substantial chunk from that paycheck, leaving you high and tight when feeling the urge to make impulsive impromptu purchases, including, but not limited to: the Iron Gym Total Upper Body Workout Bar®, the Seasons 3-5 boxset of the USA Network hit television series “Burn Notice,” two dozen VIC Special frozen Salisbury steaks while perusing the Harris Teeter butcher’s aisle and particularly hungry, anything recommended by the ShamWow® guy during 4 a.m. infomercials, etc. etc.
I mean, I’m all for, like, paved roads and properly finished bridges or whatever, but there are times I wish I could pull a Wesley Snipes (“Blade,” all the other “Blade” movies), and just tell Uncle Sam to go take a long walk in the general vicinity of a not-yet-finished bridge.
(4) Fantasy presidential campaign manager
Like the American public, players of Fantasy Presidential Campaign Manager (trademark pending), would pretty much only have two choices.
I’m not sure how you score this one. It would probably end up being decided by the campaign management team with the least amount of negative points.
I would assume that whoever was unfortunate enough to draw the short straw as commissioner on this one would spend the better part of their day marking red every time Trump said something racist or Hillary something generally demonic.
No matter the score at the end of the day, though, I’m pretty sure whoever you decide to draft in this one, you’re gonna end up taking a big fat “L.”
(3) Fantasy friend-making
I just realized this already exists (Facebook, lol).
(2) Fantasy sports commentator
This one would be pretty easy to score — 20 points every time Deoin Sanders shows off a new suit, 10 every time Ray Lewis mentioned his personal Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, 5 every time Ditka says “C’mon, man,” and -1,000 if you become the, like, a thousandth commentator to get fired by ESPN.
(1) Fantasy North Korean dictator
Kim Jong-un. Kim Jong-il. All the other North Korean dudes named Kim portrayed by actor Randall Park (“The Interview,” as one of the Kim Jongs, “The Office” as Asian Jim Halpert).
There are plenty of merciless dictator choices to draft in Fantasy North Korean dictator (patent also pending).
Plus, James Franco and Seth Rogen kind of blazed the trail blame-wise and in terms of almost starting World War III by mocking the North Korean government and country in general, so I doubt I could do too much kimchi-cart upsetting in launching FNKD.
Points for: threatening global nuclear war, like, basically all the time, without ever actually pressing the red button; convincing your country’s people that unicorns exist; narrowing down hairstyles for both men and women to fewer selections than Baskin Robbins (28); feeding your uncle to hungry dogs; convincing your country’s people that the Pyongyang Touch is better than the iPhone and totally not made in China; and, of course, listening to “Firework” by Katie Perry while drinking margaritas with James Franco.
I think we can all agree that pulling a fast one on the IRS; trying to make Baskin Robbins look somehow less appealing and less North Korean Dictator’y than the two-party system choice-wise; watching “Burn Notice”; and stalking Facebook photos are far more fantasy-preferable than listening to a room full of grown men debate sixth-round sleepers wearing jerseys of teams they don’t actually play for with names on the back not actually coming up in their Ancestry.com search results.
Fantasy or no, and whether the metaphorical applecart has been upset or no, considering all the new and far more preferable options on the metaphorical table here now, in total Matt Damon-Southie-type accent, I ask you this, Dude I Haven’t Spoken to Since College Inviting Me To Join Your Fantasy Football Draft: How about, them apples?